


Coffee, Conversations & Paperwork

by Powrhug



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powrhug/pseuds/Powrhug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawkeye doesn’t have time for paperwork. With coffee, conversation…and Coulson…he begins to see the benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee, Conversations & Paperwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saturn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn/gifts).



> Because.

It started with Coulson calling Hawkeye in from the field to do paperwork. Fucking paperwork.

“I don’t have time for this shit.” Hawkeye said as he began dismantling his gear. 

“And I do?” Came Phil’s reply, eyebrow raised and ready for battle. “Do you really want to know how many hours of overtime I’ve spent doing your paperwork?”

“But you’re a suit, Phil. That’s what you do.”

“Yeah, well, now it’s your turn.” Coulson leaned on the edge of the desk as Hawkeye sat and immediately propped his boots up on the surface, uncaring of the contents. 

“I don’t think I do it as well as you.” It was said with a smirk that Coulson tried to ignore. 

“Do you really think that tactic is going to work?”

“It’s true. You do it so well, Phil.”

“Okay, we’ll add this to the growing list of things I do better than you, Clint.” He paused just enough to give the other man hope, “But you’re still doing it.”

“Fine. But it isn’t that long.” Clint grumbled, letting his boots fall with a dull thud as he hunched forward to read the fine print. 

“That’s what she said.”

Clint raised his eyes to meet Coulson’s easy smile, “Really? Really, Phil? I thought you were above that sort of thing. Wait, I’m talking about a man who thinks the Jersey Shore is high art, what am I thinking?”

Coulson leaned just a little forward, enjoying their banter, “Not the Jersey Shore, I do have some standards.”

“And what would those be?”

“My standards?”

“Yeah? Where does one Phil Coulson draw the line.” Clint rubbed his jaw, half in thought. 

“We still talking cheesy reality tv shows here? Or are we back to paperwork?”

Clint shrugged, “Maybe we’re on a different subject altogether.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, why you no longer have the time or inclination to do my paperwork.” Clint let his fingers splay over the keyboard at his side, eyes focused on the blinking cursor. 

“So…did I hurt your feelings or is it jealousy?” Coulson’s voice was modulated, but Clint could feel the underlying tension. Interesting.

“That depends.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

“So?” Clint prompted, head still turned toward the screen as he let his eyes trail over to Phil’s face.

“So, it’s not a matter of not having time.” He replied, “As you’ve pointed out in the past, I have no life outside this suit. So whether I’m doing your paperwork or not, I’d still be here. Happy?”

“Maybe. Again, it depends.”

“On what this time?” Coulson’s gaze never left his face. More interesting.

Clint focused on the keys again as he clicked absently, the exclamation point filling the form field to capacity, “On your lack of inclination. This mean you’re sick of me?”

Coulson laughed, the sound sounding harsh in the silence of the empty office space, “Maybe it means I want you in the office doing your paperwork, ever think of that?” 

Then the silence was back again, the possibilities hanging between them. 

“I can handle myself in the field, Coulson.” 

The reply was soft, settling, with no hint of apology to bely his words, “I know you can.”

Clint shifted and leaned back into the chair, his focus now on the man still seated so close, “Then why do you want me in the office doing paperwork?”

“You’re really slow, you know that, right?” That laugh again.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah, I mean.”

“Oh. Oh!” Clint jumped slightly as the computer protested his continued exclamation onslaught. 

“Yeah, oh.” Coulson chuckled, and this time Clint got the feeling it was more at himself. 

“So…maybe I can help you out. Just, you know, spend a little more time in the office.” He said, tongue briefly slipping out to moisten too-dry mouth, “Doing paperwork…of course.”

Their eyes met, “Of course.”

Clint’s hand left the keys and found its way to Phil’s hand, eyes closing briefly at the warmth, “And maybe I can get you out of that suit.”

“Better men have tried and failed, Hawkeye.” Coulson smiled in a way that made Clint breathe in. 

“But I haven’t tried.” Clint replied, “And I never fail.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

~~~

It’d been a long day for them both, but it felt right ending it together. Long after the team had called it a night, long after the cleaning crew had made their sweep for the day. The lights were off due to budget cutbacks and the only light was from the moon and their computer screens. 

“So, how do you take your coffee?”

Clint looked up and laughed, “Why, you planning on getting me some? Coffee, tea or Coulson? Something like that?”

Coulson smiled a lazy smile and rolled his chair over to where Hawkeye sat, “Yeah, maybe. Possibly. I don't know. I thought if you were going to be here more often…”

“…doing paperwork…”

“…yes, Clint, doing paperwork. I thought I may as well make sure you're well caffeinated.”

Clint popped his knuckles making Coulson cringe, “And I appreciate your concern about my caffeine intake, Coulson.”

“So?” Coulson asked, reaching out to still Clint’s hands to preserve his nerves that were already frayed from the day.

“Well, I pretty much take it any way I can get it.” Clint said with a smirk that was almost as irritating as the knuckle cracking.

“How…convenient for you.” 

Clint shrugged, “Too many years in too many diners and cafes in too many countries. You never know, ya know?”

Coulson rubbed his thumb along a callous on Clint’s palm, “Unfortunately I do. Although I have to ask, are we still talking coffee here?”

“Yeah, Phil. Don't worry, we're still talking coffee.” 

“Good to know.” Coulson said, nodding slightly as he studied the computer light reflected in the eyes before him. 

“So, I'd say don't worry about the coffee, buddy,” Clint said, his voice barely a whisper in the dark, “It’s not the coffee I’m coming in for.”

“Let me guess, it’s the paperwork, right?” 

There was a soft laugh in reply, “Are we ever going to call this what it is?”

“I don't know.” Coulson said, “I kind of like the whole coffee and paperwork dynamic we have going here.” 

Clint shrugged, “I'm just usually a little more direct in my approach.” 

“Your very practiced approach?”

“No, Phil. Not for awhile anyway. I've gotten used to paperwork…”

“…and coffee…” 

“Yeah, and coffee. Although I've gotten more particular about that.” Clint said as he smiled and softly laughed. 

Phil laughed in return and leaned toward him, “And better at paperwork.”

“That too.”

 ~~~

 

They were well into their relationship when Hawkeye figured out he had more paperwork than any other team member. It made for long hours, but the coffee was hot and the office was empty. They wouldn't have it any other way. 

This evening it was Coulson at the computer, trying to make sense of Hawkeye's handwriting as Clint made use of two of his chair's legs. 

"There was a point early on when I only saw life through the bottom of a whiskey bottle." Coulson said, his face close to the notebook trying to read in the dim light. 

Clint's hands stopped their furious twisting of the rubber band ball he’d been studiously forming all evening, "Sorry, didn't know that." 

"I'm not. It brought about the death of a marriage that never should have taken place."

"Ouch, Phil, that's a little dark." 

Coulson removed his reading glasses and stretched, "She was both too much to handle and not enough to hold onto."

"Yeah? And what about you?"

"Me? I was a mean drunk." Coulson's eyes were unfocused as he focused on the past, "No, nothing like that. Just mean. I'm good with words especially when someone else isn't."

"And she wasn't?"

"No, she was good at a lot of things, but words weren't one of them."

"And the other things?" Clint's fingers smoothed out the lines in Coulson's dress shirt. 

"Don't worry, stud." Coulson replied, shaking himself back into the present with a laugh, "You're good at them, too."

"Yeah, but I'm also good at words."

"Yeah, yeah I know. Which is why I don't mind you hanging around."

Clint let his chair drop and leaned forward, "Hey now, you're the one who keeps calling me in from the field."

Coulson laughed, a real sound this time, "I just like hearing you complain. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you love her?" Coulson rubbed the edges of his glasses, trying not to betray how much he cared about the answer, knowing he was failing even as he said it. 

"Who? Natasha?" Clint shook his head, "Naw, not sure that was possible….for either of us." 

Coulson paused, then thought what the hell, "Do you love me?"

The silence was longer than he was comfortable with, but Phil let Clint reply in his own time, "Do you want that?"

"Awe, now see, I asked first."

Clint reached out to still Coulson's hand, taking his glasses and folding them before tucking them away in Coulson's shirt pocket, "I like what we have."

"That's not an answer." It was Coulson's turn to still the movement along his chest. 

"It's the best I can give you if you'll take it."

Coulson squeezed slightly before reluctantly releasing Clint's fingers, "I can be patient."

"Yeah, you're known for that, Coulson."

"When it matters, Clint." Coulson whispered, "When it matters."

 

~end~


End file.
